Page 104 of Scarlet Thorns
Chapter Forty-One
Ilona
I wake up in a golden haze that feels almost dreamlike.
I’m still wrapped in the soft sheets, my body humming with a satisfaction so deep it feels like it’s rewired my nervous system. Every nerve ending is still singing from last night— from Osip’s hands, his mouth, the way he consumed me like I was his last meal.
God, what did he do to me?
I stretch, feeling the delicious ache between my thighs, the tender spots where his fingers gripped my flesh, where his teeth marked my shoulder. My skin still carries the phantom heat of his touch, and I can’t stop the smile that curves my lips. Best sex of my life doesn’t even begin to cover what happened last night.
But then reality comes crashing back.
The contract.
The papers I signed with a trembling hand while my body was still buzzing from orgasm after orgasm. Five hundred thousand. For six months of… this. Of being his. But not his.
What the fuck did I just do?
I sit up abruptly. The weight of what I’ve agreed to settles on my chest like a stone. I sold myself. There’s no pretty way to dress it up, no romantic spin that makes it anything other than what it is. I’m a kept woman now. His kept woman.
The butterflies in my stomach feel more like ravens now, dark and ominous.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, cutting through my spiraling thoughts. Mom’s name flashes on the screen, and I almost let it go to voicemail. Almost. But guilt wins out— it always does with her.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Ilona, sweetheart.” Her voice carries that forced cheerfulness that means she’s been crying. “I have news about your father.”
My stomach plummets. “What kind of news?”
“I spoke to a private investigator yesterday. A really good one— acclaimed, with connections everywhere in the world. He thinks he can help us find out what really happened to your father.”
The hope in her voice is like a knife twisting in my chest. “That’s… that’s wonderful, Mom. What did he say?”
“Well, he needs a retainer. Twenty-five thousand to start, and then more, depending on what he finds.” Her voice cracks slightly. “I know it’s a lot of money. Even with my new job, I can’t… I just can’t afford it right now.”
Twenty-five thousand?
The irony is almost laughable. I have access to more money than I’ve ever dreamed of, sitting in an account that will be mine tomorrow. Money I’ve traded my soul for.
The urge to tell her everything— about the contract, about Osip, about the fact that I can solve this problem with a single phone call— suddenly burns in my throat. But I can’t. Won’t. She’d think I’m some kind of high-end escort, selling my body for money. And maybe… maybe she wouldn’t be entirely wrong.
“Please, Mom,” I manage, my voice surprisingly steady. “Leave it to me. I’ll take care of everything.”
“But honey, how can you possibly—?”
“I said I’ll handle it.” The sharpness in my tone makes me wince. “I have some savings, and I can figure out the rest. This is important. Dad deserves the truth.”
There’s a long pause on the other end. When Mom speaks again, her voice is smaller, more fragile.
“Ilona, you know I never believed it was suicide. Not for a second.”
My throat tightens. “I know, Mom.” It’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation. She can’t let it go. I can’t either.
“Your father was… he was struggling with something near the end. Something he couldn’t tell me about. But suicide?” She lets out a bitter laugh. “The man who used to lecture me about wearing my seatbelt, who made me promise to never walk alone after dark? He would never have done that. Never.”
The pain in her voice mirrors the ache in my chest, but I don’t say anything. I’d just be repeating what we’ve both said a thousand times.
